


Quiet

by stardusts (ghostiies)



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Short and bad, hey this is kind of sad but like. u kno!, its fluff technically, not suuper shippy but, poor eddie lmfao, richies parents m, this is like a year or two after IT, u kno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostiies/pseuds/stardusts
Summary: Richie is loud. He's obnoxiously, consistently, unbelievably loud. Maybe that does more good for Eddie than bad at this point. Especially at midnight, when said boy dumps himself through Eddie's bedroom window.





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> lol this is bad as shit..... we out here  
> 

Eddie used to be fine with silence. Sometimes he enjoyed it, even. A break from his mother's nagging, from Richie's nonsensical babbling, from everything, really. But now all he can hear when it's silent is the hissing of a leper, stumbling at him until it would eventually catch him, or the cackle of a clown, that fucking grinning, drooling clown. It's enough to make him despise the lack of noise. 

He supposes maybe IT made them stronger in ways. Eddie himself wasn't so terrified of disease and germs. Bill seemed to be making good progress on his grieving of Georgie, finally being awarded some closure. Richie seemed stronger, Ben more confident, Mike braver, Beverly happier. Hell, even Stan had come out of the ordeal more daring than he'd gone in. But It had also shaken them in ways Eddie wondered if he'd ever really recover from. Sometimes he thinks he sees that shaking figure of clown in the corner of his eyes, especially when it's silent. 

He plays music in the weekend daytime, or leaves the TV running to fill up the silence. He sticks to large, bustling streets when out. But in the night, there's nothing to block out the silence. That is, until Richie Tozier and his huge, dumb, coke bottle glasses starts to throw pebbles at his window.  
The first pebble ricochets off his window, startling Eddie with a shark knock. Eddie wonders if he's ever felt so terrified in his life. Silence was bad, but sudden unexplained noises in the night were somehow worse. He feels the beginnings of an asthma attack claw at him, only retreating when another pebble thunks against his window, accompanied by a sharp, hushed “shit!” as the pebble falls back down again. Obviously, this is no killer clown. Recognising the hushed voice, he crawls out of bed, walking over towards the window. He didn't know what he expected to see standing at the bottom, but it wasn't Richie Tozier holding his head with a pained expression, bike propped up next to him and another pebble in hand. 

“Richie? What the fuck?” he hissed, staring down at the curly haired boy beneath him.  
“Ah, Eds! Thought I'd come out for a night stroll, check on my favourite spaghetti string, you kn-”  
“One, don't fucking call me that, two, are you ...okay?” Eddie interrupts, noticing the anxious stance of Richie's body and slight stammer in his normally confident words. Richie doesn't answer for a moment, before nodding towards the ladder leaning against his house.  
“Let me up?” Eddie almost can't believe what he's hearing. He agrees, nonetheless. It's just Richie, after all. Talkative, seemingly allergic to quiet Richie. A moment passes, Eddie moving away from the open window and Richie hastily climbing up the ladder, dumping himself unceremoniously onto Eddie's floor with a loud thump.  
“Dude! Shut up! You'll wake my mom!”  
“Well, duh! I'm not here for you Eds, I'm here to show your mom my turbo wa-” He's cut off again by a sharp elbow to the side.  
“Beep beep trashmouth. Anyway.. why, exactly are you in my bedroom at fucking..” He glances aside at his clock disapprovingly. “..midnight?”  
“My mom vs a freshly popped bottle of wine. I didn't really know where to go.” He almost looks sheepish, if shame is an emotion even available to Richie.  
“I'll sleep on the floor and climb back out in the morning and everything! Just don't wanna be home is all.” He reasons, as if Eddie would tell him to get out anyway.  
“Richie. It's fine, just… keep your fuckin' Richie germs to yourself.” He responds, gesturing to the dirt on his hands from picking up and flinging rocks around. Of course, Richie takes this as a flag to do the exact opposite and instead jump onto Eddie, purposely trying to rub the dirt off on Eddie as Eddie writhes and spits curses at him,trying to wrestle him off.  
“Aw Eddie spaghetti, you're toooo kind to me!” Richie teases, successfully swiping one dirty palm at Eddie's face.  
Richie Tozier is disgusting, loud, obnoxious and he has no concept of silence or calm. Eddie finds he appreciates his talking and babbling, despite it all. His nights didn't tend to feel so heavy and silent anymore.


End file.
